The Grapes of Wrath Page #38

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TOM, lowering the edge of the tent, sits up. Quietly he pushes

aside the piece of carpet that covers him. He is wearing his

clothes. We see the policeman's CAR at the caretaker's hut.

The two policemen get into the car.

CARETAKER:

You got no right to arrest anybody

without a warrant, you know.

FIRST COP:

We'll have a warrant--just as soon

as we check with headquarters.

The car drives off, leaving the caretaker looking somberly

after it.

WITHIN THE JOAD TENT, his cap on, fully dressed for travel,

Tom is tieing the ends of the carpet into a shoulder bundle.

Rising, he slings it across his shoulder. As he tiptoes toward

the door:

MA:

Ain't you gonna tell me goodbye,

Tommy?

For a moment he looks into the darkness in her direction.

TOM:

I didn't know, Ma. I didn't know if

I ought.

She has risen, pulling the quilt around her. He takes her by

the hand.

TOM:

Come outside.

They go out. Tom leads Ma around BEHIND THE TENT, to a SECTION

OF WIRE FENCE. There is a bench there. Tom leads Ma to it

and sits her down. He sits beside her.

TOM:

They was some cops here, Ma. They

was takin' down the license numbers.

It looks like somebody knows sump'n.

MA:

(softly)

It had to come, I reckon, soon or

later.

TOM:

I'd like to stay. I'd like to be

with ya--

(smiling)

--an' see your face when you an' Pa

get settled in a nice little place.

I sure wish I could see you then.

But--

(shaking his head)

--I guess I won't never be able to

do that. Not now.

MA:

I could hide you, Tommy.

TOM:

(touching her hand)

I know you would, Ma. But I ain't

gonna let you. You hide somebody

that's kilt a man an'... an' you'd

be in trouble too.

MA:

(touching his face

with her fingers)

Awright, Tommy. What you figger you

gonna do?

TOM:

(thoughtfully)

You know what I been thinkin' about,

Ma? About Casy. About what he said,

what he done, an' about how he died.

An' I remember all of it.

MA:

He was a good man.

TOM:

I been thinkin' about us, too--about

our people livin' like pigs, an'

good rich lan' layin' fallow, or

maybe one fella with a million acres,

while a hundred thousan' farmers is

starvin'. An' I been wonderin' if

all our folks got together an' yelled--

MA:

(frightened)

Tommy, they'll drive you, an' cut

you down like they done to Casy.

TOM:

They gonna drive me anyways. Soon or

later they'll get me, for one thing

if not another. Until then...

MA:

You don't aim to kill nobody, Tom!

TOM:

No, Ma. Not that. That ain't it. But

long as I'm a outlaw, anyways, maybe

I can do sump'n. Maybe I can jus'

fin' out sump'n. Jus' scrounge aroun'

an' try to fin' out what it is that's

wrong, an then see if they ain't

sump'n could be done about it.

(Worriedly)

But I ain't thought it out clear,

Ma. I can't. I don't know enough.

MA:

(after a pause)

How'm I gonna know 'bout you? They

might kill you an' I wouldn't know.

They might hurt you. How'm I gonna

know?

TOM:

(laughing uneasily)

Well, maybe it's like Casy says, a

fella ain't got a soul of his own,

but on'y a piece of a big soul--the

one big soul that belongs to ever'body--

an' then...

MA:

Then what, Tom?

TOM:

Then it don't matter. Then I'll be

all aroun' in the dark. I'll be

ever'where--wherever you look.

Wherever there's a fight so hungry

people can eat, I'll be there.

Wherever there's a cop beatin' up a

guy, I'll be there. I'll be in the

way guys yell when they're mad--an'

I'll be in the way kids laugh when

they're hungry an' they know supper's

ready. An' when our people eat the

stuff they raise, an' live in the

houses they build, why, I'll be there

too.

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